The Queen of Hearts
by aznxtasi
Summary: In the first week of summer, Harry receives a valentine worthy of the horrendous Gilderoy Lockhart category. But it's from someone Harry would never expect...


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Spoilers: 1-5  
  
Harry pressed his ear to the door of the cupboard underneath the stairs.  
  
"And now, back to Peter Pudgegoods."  
  
"Thank you, Mariana."  
  
Peter Pudgegoods readjusted his obvious toupee, crinkled his nose, and continued.  
  
"An anonymous source has revealed that the mysterious serial killer that surfaced over a decade ago is back in full swing. Whether this hodgepodge is related to the three disappearances or murders in London, Surrey, and Glasgow remain to be seen. And highly suspicious passersby should be reported immediately to the national most-wanted hotline: 1-800-746-3752. "  
  
Ha, thought Harry. The ministry was back in action. He expected to see less of "Harry Potter: The Boy who had surprisingly prophetic 'hallucinations' and somehow turned out to be right" nowadays.  
  
Harry scratched his ear and pressed it against the cool metal surface again. His third day back from his 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he was already reduced to hiding in obscure places in order to keep a watch on the world outside Number 4, Privet Drive? Come to think of it, why didn't he just plop down on the couch like a normal person who felt like catching up on the evening news?  
  
Because, said a little voice in Harry's head, Moody doesn't want you provoking the Dursleys Indeed, Uncle Vernon was acting like a Harry was a curse now, a time bomb. He took great care in being painfully polite to Harry, and had stopped telling him off for silly things like touching the sink (for fear of contamination). However, every time Harry put a toe out of line, that is, doing something he wouldn't have done last year, he could see Uncle Vernon strangling the air around him, and Harry could tell that it wouldn't be before long that his uncles fury cracked, making him strangle more than air. What was the cause of Uncle Vernon's mental frustration? It was none other than Moody's personal threat to Uncle Vernon at their Kings Cross Station parting that he would harm the Dursleys if they harmed Harry. Though Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's momentary idea of harm was having an indecent lawn, even they couldn't think of the sinister things Mad-Eye Moody had in store.  
  
Well, thought Harry, maybe Uncle Vernon's changed.  
  
Harry tapped open the cupboard door, squishing a hopeful escapist spider with his knee, and cautiously walked over to the sofa, half expecting a bomb of some sort to explode in his wake. As he plopped down, Uncle Vernon made no signs of motion. Harry sat there for a few minutes. No more word on the supposed serial killer, better known in the wizarding world as Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle. Uncle Vernon's piggy eyes were still deftly attached to the screen. Harry gingerly propped his feet up on the coffee table. This caused Uncle Vernon to momentarily sputter, before he artful suppressed it and decided to cough to make it all the more convincing that he was being civil to Harry.  
  
However, because Uncle Vernon was progressively reddening, Harry decided not to take any chances (even with the promise of utmost terror for Mad-eye Moody). He scurried upstairs to write some letters.  
  
Anger stabbed Harry's mind as he thought of Ron and Hermione, probably having fun without him. Professor Dumbledore had insisted that he stay at least the duration of June, before heading off to the Weasley's. At that exact moment, an abnormally large dust ball thunked the brick wall underneath Harry's bedroom window and landed on the ground. Harry could see the feather ball from his desk- it was probably Pigwidgeon, Ron's depressingly minute owl, which seemed to be following in the footsteps of their ancient family owl, Errol, by collapsing during journeys.  
  
"Er, Hedwig, why don't you fetch Pig." Harry turned to his own snowy white owl, whose beak was upturned. (She oddly resembled Aunt Petunia when spying on a neighbor.)  
  
With a click of disapproval, Hedwig soared out the window in returned in seconds, a fluttering fluff dangling in her claws. Pig immediately began hooting insanely, and Harry had no choice but to snatch it out of the air as Uncle Vernon radiated an unsatisfied grumble from downstairs.  
  
He quickly unfolded Ron's damp letter.  
  
Hi Harry-  
  
Sorry I haven't been able to get back to you lately, we've been in a bit of a bind lately, with not-so-perfect Percy and stuff. He's humbled down a slight bit, but he's not speaking still. Mums still crying her eyes out.. We're all going to Romania for what she calls family bonding, she thinks Fred and George are getting too distant. I expect we'll be back mid August, so see you then. Write back-  
  
Harry slumped into his chair. He wouldn't be able to escape to the Weasley's this summer. As her twirled his quill expertly in his hand to compose a reply, another owl headed for his window, though this one gracefully plodded through the sill. It surely wasn't a Hogwarts owl- it was much to early for that. Harry saw, to his horror, that attached to the owl's feet was a lacy valentine. A slobbering admirer, perhaps. However, as Harry gingerly unfolded the red valentine (glitter was puring out the center), he found, to his astonishment, that it was the signature of no one other than his other best friend, Hermione Granger, attached to the bottom. He braced himself for the worst.  
  
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW !!!!!!! 


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